Read Online Fair Juno by Stephanie Laurens - Free Book Online Page A

learned who she was, he would realise such a connection was unsuitable, for no one would ever believe it innocent. If she refused to tell him her name, he would not feel obliged to acknowledge her when he met her again. Then, too, many men felt widows were fair game and she would hate him to consider her a potential candidate for his extramarital vacancy. All in all, she decided, he did not need to know her name.
    Martin wondered what thoughts held his goddess so silent. But the peace of the morning was soothing about them and he made no move to interrupt her reverie. Despite not knowing her name, he felt confident of finding her in the capital. London might be the teeming hub of the nation, but its hallowed halls were trod by few. A gold and ivory goddess would be easy to trace.
    The road widened then dipped. A ford lay ahead. Engrossed in contemplation of the predictable delights of waltzing with fair Juno, Martin automatically checked his pair, then sent them into the shallow water at a smart trot.
    The horses’ hooves clopped on the gravelly surface of the opposite bank; they slowed, then leaned into the traces and strained. The carriage wheels stuck fast, rocking the occupants of the box seat to full awareness of their predicament.
    Helen clutched the side of the seat, then turned a wide-eyed look on her rescuer as a muttered expletive was belatedly smothered.
    Martin shut his eyes in frustration. He had forgotten that minor fords were often not paved. The heavy rain had washed silt into the ford; his wheels felt as if they were six inches deep.
    With a heavy sigh, he opened his eyes. ‘We’re stuck.’
    Helen glanced around at the swiftly moving stream. ‘So we are,’ she agreed helpfully.
    Martin cast her a warning look. She met it with unlikely innocence. Grimacing, he lifted his gaze to scan their surroundings. About them, the silence of woods and fields lay unbroken by human discord. No smoke rose above the trees to give hint of a nearby cottage. Memory suggested they were still some miles from the London road.
    With a groan, Martin shortened the reins. ‘I’ll have to get down and find some stones. Can you hold them, do you think?’
    A mischievous grin lit Helen’s face. ‘I was under the impression that no out-and-outer would ever entrust his cattle to a mere woman.’
    Martin grimaced. ‘ Touché . I wouldn’t—except that I wouldn’t give a farthing for their behaviour if I simply tied the reins to the rail. The devils would sense the absence of a master and they’d be off as soon as the stones were in place.’ He glanced down into the large green eyes. ‘All they need is a light touch on the reins for reassurance—and you seem to know your way about horses.’
    Helen reached for the reins. ‘I do. But if you spook them by throwing stones, I’ll drive off and leave you to your fate. So be warned!’
    Martin laughed at her melodramatic tone and relinquished the reins. He stood carefully and removed his coat, placing it over the seat before jumping down from the carriage. The water covered his ankles. With an inward sigh for his gleaming Hessians, he splashed to the bank and cast about for stones to place beneath and before the wheels.
    Helen watched, the reins held gently in both hands. Every now and then, she felt a tug as the horses lived up to their owner’s expectations and tested their freedom. They were clearly unhappy to be standing stock-still, half in and half out of the stream, rather than stretching their legs along the highway. As the minutes ticked by, Helen became infected with their impatience. Martin had to go further and furtherafield to find stones to lay in the mud before the wheels. She had no idea of the time, but thought it close to noon. How far were they from London?
    Then her reckless self emerged and shouldered aside her worries. This was adventure and in adventure important things took care of themselves. Things would turn out all right; she need not concern